Of birthdays, bottles & birds

This is my favorite photo of The Weed. I love that it’s a little blurry, a little out of focus. Still, it shows a side of him few people see: His mischievous smile.

We celebrated The Weed’s birthday Saturday.

In no particular order, we …

> Enjoyed a nice breakfast of blueberry muffins and dark Spanish coffee. In truth, I had waffles, fruit and tea. Weed loves blueberry muffins and coffee.

> We played golf on a simulator at a nearby indoor range. The Weed and I tee’d off on the Castle Pines course, playing for about an hour. He did very well. I stunk up the joint. I was tired and hungry.

> We enjoyed a traditional German feast of pork schnitzel, bratwurst and spaetzle at a campy little restaurant near Denver.

> We stopped by a local brewery for a few tasty drinks.

> We settled onto the couch at home to watch Battlebots and …

> A bird flew into the house and started bouncing off the windows, driving the dogs nuts and forcing The Weed and me to think creatively about shooing it outside again.

Armed with a canoe paddle and a Swiffer Sweeper wand, we let the bird settle on a light fixture in our entryway and slowly approached it with paddle and Swiffer wand held high. The bird jumped from the light fixture and flew out the open front door. Thankfully. Turns out there was an owl perched on the house behind us. I think that’s what freaked out the little finch.

> Finally, The Weed broke into his present from me, a Johnnie Walker gift set, and toasted his birthday and the success of Operation Free the Finch.

It was a good day but a little strange, too.

I can’t put my finger on it, but something was off most of the day. Certainly, my golf game was terrible. My arms and upper back are weak and stupid after surgeries and not enough rehab. Physical therapy should help with this.

The usual easy-going nature of my relationship with The Weed was tense that day. I’m not sure why. When I think back on the day, the tension seemed to lift after we liberated the small bird from our house.

I had looked forward to Saturday. Birthdays aren’t what they used to be. Still, as long as I’m around, I want to celebrate them to the fullest extent. They are milestones that should be embraced and honored.

I planned a nice breakfast The Weed would enjoy. I spent time picking out tasty birthday pastries I knew he would never buy for himself. I cleaned up the house. For me, The Weed’s birthday is an opportunity to ‘pay back’ all the support, understanding and downright sacrifices he has made for me during my time with cancer.

On Saturday, I wanted him to relax, have some fun, and enjoy some tasty food/drinks.

That brings me back to the Johnnie Walker gift set. Taking a swig from the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue was very emotional for The Weed. It made him cry and kiss me. That never happens.

For years, The Weed has carried around an old bottle of Ballantine’s scotch whisky that his grandfather drank. His grandfather died years ago and The Weed has taken drinks from this bottle to note special occasions or simply when he wants to reflect.

Unfortunately, what little remained of that scotch — dregs at the bottom — eventually evaporated.

We still have the bottle. The label is beautiful and it will always be meaningful to The Weed.

So, when he took a drink of the Johnnie Walker Blue, it reminded him of his grandfather’s whisky. I wish I could take credit for having known these two blends would taste similarly. I can’t. My palate is lost on most whisky and anything that doesn’t involve French fries.

I’m happy he enjoyed the gift. I think he enjoyed the day.

It’s difficult. Like I said earlier, I want to pay him back.

I want The Weed to know how genuinely grateful I am for all the times he left work to be at appointments with me or hang out in waiting rooms during surgeries.

I want him to know that sitting beside me during my first chemotherapy session in 2013 was one of the kindest things he could ever do for me.

I want him to understand that the countless grocery store runs for strange food and even stranger medications will never be forgotten.

I want him to realize that the woman he married more than 20 years ago is forever changed by cancer but having him stand by me, wonky breasts, scars and all is nearly heroic.

For people living with cancer, I think there has to be at least one Marvel Comics hero in their lives. Getting through surgeries, treatments by ourselves is terribly daunting. Doing it without a ‘ride or die’ seems downright unachievable.

The American Cancer Society has a great page dedicated to caregivers and those who help people living with cancer at https://www.cancer.org/treatment/caregivers/if-youre-about-to-become-a-cancer-caregiver.html.

‘On top of the normal day-to-day tasks, such as meals, cleaning, and driving or arranging transportation, as a caregiver, you’ll also become an important part of the cancer care team. This busy schedule could leave you with no time to take care of your own needs,’ the page says. ‘You also may feel the need to turn down job opportunities, work fewer hours, or even retire early to meet the demands of being a caregiver.’

The American Cancer Society offers several suggestions for how caregivers can take on these duties and maintain their own work or social requirements. The page also stresses that caregivers should take care of themselves.

‘There are three types of activities that you need to do for yourself’ … as the caregiver:

• Those that involve other people, such as having lunch with a friend.

• Those that give you a sense of accomplishment, like exercising or finishing a project.

• Those that make you feel good or relaxed, like watching a funny movie or taking a walk.

Make an effort to notice and talk about things you do as they happen during the day. Watch the news or take time to read the morning paper. Set aside time during the day, like during a meal, when you do not talk about illness.’

I have relied on The Weed so much during Breast Cancer 1.0 and Breast Cancer 2.0. He has been my rock. Always there. Always steady.

I am beyond fortunate.

Now, I’m heading to the kitchen to pick off one of his birthday pastries. I’m pretty sure he’ll understand.

As we celebrated The Weed’s birthday Saturday, a finch flew into the house and caused all sorts of ruckus. Fortunately, we were able to quietly and peacefully usher it out of the house and continue with saluting The Weed’s day.